he did remember but was only pretending not to because he was ashamed by what had happened—a possibility that did not bode well for the conversation they needed to have.
“I know I have to talk to Trey,” she acknowledged to her sister now. “But I can’t just show up in Thunder Canyon to tell him that I’m having his baby.”
“Why not?” Kristen demanded.
“Because.”
“You’ve been making excuses for months,” her sister pointed out. “And you don’t have many more left—excuses or months.”
“Do you think I don’t realize that?”
Kristen threw her hands up. “I don’t know what you realize. I never thought you’d keep your pregnancy a secret for so long—not from me or the rest of your family, and especially not from the baby’s father.
“I’ve tried to be understanding and supportive,” her sister continued. “But if you don’t tell him, I will.”
Kayla knew it wasn’t an idle threat. “But how can I tell Trey that he’s going to be a father when he doesn’t even remember having sex with me?”
Kristen frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“When I saw Trey—later the next day—he said that his memory of the night before was hazy.”
“A lot of people had blank patches after drinking that spiked punch.”
She nodded. “But Trey’s mind had apparently blanked out the whole part about getting naked with me.”
“Okay, that might make the conversation a little awkward,” Kristen acknowledged.
“You think?”
Her sister ignored her sarcasm. “But awkward or not, you have to get it over with. I’d say sooner rather than later, but it’s already later.”
“I know,” Kayla agreed.
“So...shopping trip to Thunder Canyon?” Kristen prompted.
“Three hundred miles is a long way to go to pick up a few gifts—don’t you think Mom and Dad will be suspicious?”
“I think Mom and Dad should be the least of your worries right now.”
Kristen was right, of course. Her sister always had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter. “Will you go with me?”
“If I had two consecutive days off from the theater, I would, but it’s just not possible right now.”
She nodded.
“And no,” Kristen spoke up before Kayla could say anything more. “That does not give you an excuse to wait until after the holidays to make the trip.”
“I know,” she grumbled, because she had, of course, been thinking exactly that—and her sister knew her well enough to know it.
“So when are you going?” Kristen demanded.
“I’ll keep you posted. I have to get to the paper.”
RUST CREEK RAMBLINGS: THE LA LAWYER TAKES A BRIDE
Yes, folks, it’s official: attorney to the stars Ryan Roarke is off the market after being firmly lassoed by a local cowgirl! So what’s the next order of business for the California lawyer? Filing for a change of venue in order to keep his boots firmly planted on Montana soil and close to his beautiful bride-to-be, Kristen Dalton. No details are available yet on a date for the impending nuptials, but the good people of Rust Creek Falls can rest assured that they will know as soon as the Rambler does...
Trey Strickland had been happily living near and working at the Thunder Canyon Resort for several years now, but he never passed up an opportunity to visit his grandparents in Rust Creek Falls. His family had lived in the small town for nearly a decade while he was growing up, and he still had good friends there and always enjoyed catching up with them again.
Now it was December and he hadn’t been back since the summer. And whenever he thought of that visit, he thought of Kayla Dalton. Truth be told, he thought of Kayla at other times, too—and that was one of the reasons he’d forced himself to stay away for so long.
He’d slept with his best friend’s little sister.
And he didn’t regret it.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure he could say the same about Kayla based on her demeanor toward him the next day. She’d pretended nothing had happened between them, so he’d followed her lead.
He suspected that they’d both acted out of character as a result of being under the influence of the wedding punch. According to his grandmother, the police now believed the fruity concoction had been spiked and were trying to determine who had done so and why.
Trey’s initial reaction to the news had been shock, followed quickly by relief that there was a credible explanation for his own reckless behavior that night. But whatever had been in the punch, the remnants of it had long since been purged from his system, yet thoughts and memories of Kayla continued to tease his mind.
As he navigated the familiar route from Thunder Canyon to Rust Creek Falls, his mind wandered. He was looking forward to spending the holidays with his grandparents, but he was mostly focused on the anticipation of seeing Kayla again, and the closer he got to his destination, the more prominent she figured in his thoughts.
He’d had a great time with her at the wedding. Prior to that night, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few dozen words over the past several years, so he’d been surprised to discover that she was smart and witty and fun. She was the kind of woman he enjoyed spending time with, and he hoped he would get to spend more time with her when he was in town.
But first he owed her an apology, which he would have delivered the very next morning except that his brain had still been enveloped in some kind of fog that had prevented him from remembering exactly what had happened after the wedding.
He didn’t usually drink to excess. Sure, he enjoyed hanging out with his buddies and having a few beers, but he’d long outgrown the desire to get drunk and suffer the consequences the next morning. But whatever had been in that wedding punch, it hadn’t given any hint of its incredible potency...
It was morning.
The bright sunlight slipping past the edges of the curtains told him that much. The only other fact that registered in his brain was that he was dying. Or at least he felt as if he was. The pain in his head was so absolutely excruciating, he was certain it was going to fall right off his body—and there was a part of him that wished it would.
In a desperate attempt to numb the torturous agony, he downed a handful of aspirin with a half gallon of water then managed to sit upright without wincing.
The quiet knock on his door echoed
